


Alive

by regenorakel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, F/F, F/M, M/M, sort of utopian Middle Ages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regenorakel/pseuds/regenorakel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>More or less loosely based on <a href="http://steammmpunk.tumblr.com/post/46740653772/titlecase-asked-you-allydia-princess-and-knight">this awesome piece of art</a>.</p><p>Warnings and rating are as they are mostly to be safe.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> More or less loosely based on [this awesome piece of art](http://steammmpunk.tumblr.com/post/46740653772/titlecase-asked-you-allydia-princess-and-knight).
> 
> Warnings and rating are as they are mostly to be safe.

“Why are we doing this again?” Allison asks as she pulls the last piece of her armor into place, the metal clinking as she arranges it. The sword, hanging around her waist by a broad, ornate leather strap, feels too heavy, too cold against her hand as she grips the handle.  
  
“Because it’s princess Lydia’s birthday and his and her majesties wanted all knight families present,” her father replies, the last words coming out of his mouth with a sigh as he comes to stand next to her, checks that her armor is perfect. Allison resists the urge to roll her eyes at him.  
  
On the way out of the room she lets her left hand caress her bow, which is currently hanging on the wall next to her quiver, just by the door. Allison has had training with all types of weapons, but the bow was always her favorite, the one she most excelled at. Wood is not cold like metal, it is not dead and burned and hammered into submission; it is alive and powerful - just how Allison wants to be.  
  
As she stands in the yard of the huge castle, with more than fifty other knights, waiting for the royal family to show themselves, Allison carefully lets her eyes wander. Scott McCall is standing nearby, talking to a few of his friends. Allison knows they are all still new to being knights in the king and queen’s services, they just finished training a few months ago. Their smiles are easy and open. She looks away.  
  
When the royal family steps out into the sun, everyone in the yard goes down on one knee, lowering their head, showing their respect to king, queen and princess. Allison risks a glance upwards while the king is thanking everyone for coming - and stares.  
  
Allison had vaguely remembered princess Lydia, and although she had known that her memories were rusty at best, she had not expected the princess to be as stunning as she is. Her softly curled hair, a color between light brown and reddish blonde, flows over her shoulders, looking like silk. Her light pink dress with ornaments and embroideries Allison knows only the richest families can afford hugs her small figure nicely, accentuating all her best features. The gold tiara on top of her head gleams and sparkles in the sunlight, the diamonds in it reflecting, blinding.  
  
The most stunning feature, though, are her eyes. From where Allison is now getting up to stand again - she almost missed the right moment but caught herself just in time - she can barely make out the color, but then again, with what she’s seeing, she doubts she could describe them in a single word, anyway.  
  
Allison doesn’t mean to continue staring, but she does and then, suddenly, princess Lydia’s head turns ever so slightly and she is looking Allison directly in the eyes. Allison struggles for composure for a moment and the princess’ lips curl upwards at the edges, a glint of mischief in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, the festivities for the princess’ coming of age begin with formal knight tournaments during which the opponents show off their skills in weaponry. The weapons the fighters are using are decorated with all kinds of expensive, flashy materials - gold inlays, small gems, mother of pearl - and unsharpened so as not to be able to cut or pierce. The tournaments are not meant to be real, potentially lethal battle, after all.  
  
Allison lays out the five types of weapons she is free to choose from on the big table right in the middle of the tent that was set up for her and her father to use during the festivities, thinking the uses of all of them through carefully. Laura Hale had been drawn as her opponent and she is known for her quick reaction and perfect handling of her daggers; Allison, on the other hand, is known for her tactical skill and swiftness in carrying out her strategy. However, it is also clear that she prefers to hit her target from a distance. She needs to be prepared for Laura using this knowledge against her.  
  
“Allison.”  
  
She turns around to see her father standing at the entrance of their tent, holding her armor. Unlike what she was wearing for the formal greeting the day before, this is a mail one - lighter, less restrictive and easier to put on - that only covers the upper body.  
  
She walks over to her father and takes the armor from him, thanking him. He lingers, though, as she turns back toward her weapons after placing the armor on the table as well.  
“Is there anything else, father?” she asks and looks at him. He’s silent for a moment.  
  
“I know you feel obliged to defend our family’s honor,” he begins, and Allison can feel nervousness creep up her spine, like a child being caught doing something forbidden. He grimaces and frowns at the ground. “Please be careful,” is all he adds before leaving. Allison breathes a sigh of relief.  
  
As Allison steps out of the tent into the sunlight, she sees Derek Hale, Laura’s brother, standing by one of the other tents, staring at her. She pointedly shoves her daggers into their straps around her thigh and he turns and leaves. Allison can’t hold back the little smirk tugging at her lips.  
  
“Ladies and Lords, please welcome to the field: Lady Allison of the Argent family, renowned for her unparalleled skill with the bow!”  
  
Allison steps onto the field, a space big enough to give the fighters room for attack and retreat, but also small enough to keep the battle going. She trains her eyes firmly on Laura Hale, who is standing at the other end, about to make her entrance as well, now that the crowd’s cheers subside.  
  
“And Lady Laura of the Hale family, renowned for her swiftness with the daggers!”  
  
The spectators erupt in yelling, clapping and whistling again as Laura steps onto the field. Her dark hair is bound back into a high ponytail, just like Allison’s; the ends have been further secured with a red ribbon. Allison’s ribbon is blue. Neither of them wears a helmet or gloves, they would just not be practical in a fight like this - and they really aren’t necessary, either.  
  
“Both opponents chose sword and daggers as their weapons,” the announcer elaborates for the crowd, who has fallen silent again. “They will fight three rounds. The winner of a round is the fighter that first lands a strike that would have been a killing blow in a fight with lethal weapons. Whoever wins two of three rounds shall be the winner of the battle and be granted the honor to give her ribbon to princess Lydia as a sign of loyalty and love! Good luck to both!”  
  
Allison and Laura approach each other, coming to stand in the middle of the field. They stare the respective other down for a moment, then turn back around and put a few feet of space between them.  
  
“May the battle begin!” the announcer roars and the crowd cheers.  
  
Allison draws two of her six daggers, flips them a few times in her hands to get a feel for their weight. Unsurprisingly, Laura also draws two of her daggers - which all bear a single, teardrop-shaped ruby -, but thanks to her experience with this kind of weapon, wielding them is second nature to her. They both assume a fighting stance, making their mail armor rattle a little.  
  
They begin walking in circles, eyes never leaving the other’s face. Allison knows that she is at a disadvantage if she strikes first, what with her having less experience with daggers than Laura, being more used to quickly firing off arrow after arrow to take out her enemies.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Allison can see Laura flip the dagger in her right hand so that the blade is now aligned with her arm. Allison spreads her feet a little further apart to gain better footing and thus manages to block Laura’s unbelievably hard and lightning-quick first strike. She presses back with all of her strength and manages to shove the other woman off and back, giving her the opportunity to go for an attack herself. Laura simply dodges and slashes at Allison’s face with the dagger in her left hand, but Allison leans back and away to get at Laura from the right side.  
  
She should have seen it coming, really, but it happens too fast. Laura swipes her right leg sideways and Allison falls to the ground, barely having the time to open her eyes again after the impact before she feels the cool blade against her throat. She glares up at a smirking Laura. The crowd cheers again.  
  
“The first round goes to Lady Laura!” the announcer bellows over the noises from the crowd.  
  
Allison can feel the anger boiling in her veins, but she knows she has to keep it in check. She needs to be more careful. She and Laura separate and go back to their original positions. Laura is still flashing the smirk and Allison wants to wipe it off her face. She needs to know Laura’s next move this time, surprise her.  
  
The next round begins and again they circle slowly around the middle of the field. Allison makes sure to gradually get closer to Laura, who seems to be a little careless now, after her first quick victory, letting her arms just sway at her sides. But it might as well be a trap, she might be trying to make herself seem vulnerable, an easy target. Allison grips her daggers a bit tighter and surges forward. Laura looks utterly unsurprised and crouches down further, widening her stance more. Allison brings her right hand forward, feigning a strike to Laura’s middle.  
  
Laura easily blocks it, just as expected; it’s Allison’s turn to smirk as she grabs Laura’s right arm and pulls the other woman towards herself. That seems to be the surprise Allison needed. She rams her elbow into Laura’s shoulder and manages to destabilize her, sending her to the ground. Allison secures Laura’s body by kneeling on her back and left arm with one leg, never letting go of Laura’s right arm. Allison’s smirk widens as she looks at the seething woman below her and presses the tip of her dagger to Laura’s throat.  
  
“Lady Allison wins the second round!”  
  
As they go back to their positions for the last time, Allison puts the daggers back into their straps. Since they fought with their daggers in the two previous rounds already, they now have to use their sword. Knaves come to the edge of the field and hand both women their weapon before quickly retreating.  
  
Allison turns around and faces Laura again, watches her swing the sword this way and that. She lets her own sword dangle, swings it back and forth a little and finally grips it tightly in both hands, assuming a fighting stance again. While Laura is walking back to her own position, Allison risks a glance at where king, queen and princess are watching over the area. Lydia’s hair is tied back today. She is wearing a dark blue dress, ornamented with light blue jewels and gold embroideries. She looks amazing.  
  
Allison takes a deep breath and reminds herself to focus on the task at hand. Laura approaches slowly but determinedly and round three begins. This time Laura seems to want to avoid being surprised, so instead of circling the field she immediately runs toward Allison, keeping the sword at her right side. Allison pushes her right foot back, as if bracing herself for the impact, raising the sword in front of herself; just as Laura goes in for the strike, though, Allison steps sideways and quickly shoves at Laura’s back. This time, however, the other woman won’t let herself be thrown off-balance as easily and she quickly whips back around.  
  
Allison takes two steps backwards and resumes her stance. When Laura comes at her again they let their swords meet a few times, then step back once more. Allison knows she has to land the winning strike soon; she’s not used to wielding a sword and its weight makes her arms feel heavy. She decides to go on the offensive. Laura seems to notice since she smirks again, readjusts her grip on the hilt of her own sword.  
  
Allison narrows her eyes, releases a battle cry and runs at Laura, who simply readies herself by assuming a defensive stance. Allison swings the weapon at Laura’s left side, and of course the strike gets blocked; Laura presses back and Allison has to retreat a step. Laura’s sword comes at her from bottom right and she quickly steps out of harm’s way.  
  
They dance around like that for a little, swinging their swords and blocking each others’ blows and Allison can feel herself get increasingly desperate not to lose. She reminds herself again to stay calm. Just as Laura tries to attack her left side, Allison dodges and uses the hilt of her sword to stab at Laura’s waist.  
  
The other woman doubles over and Allison seizes her opportunity to once again send Laura to the ground, carefully pointing her sword between Laura’s shoulder blades, just enough for it to be felt. The crowd erupts in wild cheers, some of the people in the audience even stand and applaud.  
  
“The third round goes to Lady Allison! She wins this battle!”  
  
Allison takes the announcement as her cue to retreat from the field. She can almost feel Laura’s angry gaze fixed on her back, but she doesn’t care. Not when she is now approaching Lydia to give her the blue ribbon that held her hair during the fights. King, queen and princess stand as Allison goes down on one knee and bows her head.  
  
“Lady Allison of the Argent family. You fought with honor and great skill, therefore you shall now be allowed to gift my daughter with your ribbon,” the king says and Lydia steps forward, holding out her right hand.  
  
Allison stands and feels her heart hammering, though not from exhaustion. She catches her ponytail and unties the blue ribbon from it, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Lydia’s. The princess has that mischievous smile on her lips - her perfectly curved, red lips - again, just like the day before. Allison swallows and places the ribbon in Lydia’s hand carefully.  
  
“Princess Lydia, please accept this ribbon as a sign of my love and loyalty,” she says and Lydia’s lips seem to twitch. Allison steps back, maybe a second later than would have been acceptable according to protocol, and kneels again.  
  
“Lady Allison,” the princess begins, and her voice sounds a little rough, which is unexpected. It has Allison swallowing again. “I thank you for your love and loyalty, your commitment and bravery. Please rise and celebrate your victory.”  
  
Allison does as she is told and walks back to her father, who is waiting by the side of the field, on unsteady legs.


End file.
